Duality
by Rish Tor
Summary: They always said True Love was the strongest magic of them all. Little did they know just how right they were.
1. Chapter 1

_I don't know what this is…_

_If you enjoy yay, if not, also cool. I'd be confused too. This is basically my first attempt at writing something after a verrrry long hiatus..._

_But OUAT got me writing again so that's a plus. (Hopefully now I'll finally get around to that second chapter of Echoes like I promised)_

_Branches from near the end of 4.08._

_And still… not a single clue as to what the hell this is..._

* * *

Okay, so this hadn't been the smartest idea ever. Or really, at all.

In fact, this was probably holding its own at the top of the list of all the stupid things Emma had ever done. Ever. And that was a long list. Basically, it had been an all around stupid plan. Ten steps past idiotic really.

But it had worked.

Sort of.

Maybe?

Whatever the case was, Emma is now on her hands and knees, fighting to both draw in breath and clear the crushing blackness from her vision. All of her senses are dull, leaving her feeling like she's been submerged in water for too long. Distantly, the sounds of raised voices register, but it's too hard to focus through the waves crashing in her head.

She isn't entirely sure if this plan is going to even allow her survival.

Stupid fucking plan.

She doesn't even know if it'll even work the way she wants. Or remotely at all.

Clearly, the emotional upheaval of today has taken its toll on her sanity; how else could she possibly even come up with something as exponentially insane?

The two hearts currently residing in her chest seem to thump in agreement. It sends another magical shudder through her and the aura of mystical power that had appeared as soon as she slammed the organ into her core. Her insides twist angrily at the abomination she's created within herself and she retches blindly.

Thoughts as sluggish as molasses, Emma comes to the conclusion she has definitely gone absolutely bonkers.

If she ever gets a chance to look back on recent events in greater detail, she will ponder the choice she's just made for all eternity. Of course, survival is still questionable in this instance.

However, she will never exactly know what drew her outside as soon as Elsa helped her regain control of her power. Be it that part of her heart somehow was sensing Killian was in trouble, the faint remainder of wild magic seeking its final escape or the faintest sounds of pain, it matters not. All that does is she stepped onto the front porch of the mansion just as Gold stepped away from where Killian was trapped against the fence, something small and glowing vibrantly in his hand.

It took less than a second to realize that Gold had taken Killian's heart and was undoubtedly going to do nothing good with it.

It took another second for Elsa to step outside behind her, a small gasp escaping the Ice Queen's lips, as Emma's mind raced for a solution. A plan. A something.

Yet another second went by, this time with memories of a witch and a whirlpool and a hand in her chest flooding her thoughts, and the sight of her parents and son rounding the corner of the driveway.

And the final second for the half-baked, idiotic, completely unfounded plan, to take root.

Reaching out on instinct, not even noticing that Gold is finally taking note of her presence or Killian's panicked shout of 'no, Emma!,' she lets the magic flow and _pulls_.

And that heart, the precious heart that is so rightfully hers now, just as her heart belongs to him, flies through the air and lands gently in her outstretched palm.

An instant is all it takes for the sight of the shocked and morphing-to-outraged look on Gold's face for her to realize this utterly dumb ass plan of hers is all she's got.

Time slows, Gold's reaching hand still turning from Killian, her family starting to break into a run, Elsa behind her starting to say her name and Killian's look of utter distress changing to hope, and she does it.

Slams Killian's heart directly into the center of her chest.

Like an idiot.

Because she has no idea what the fucking hell she's doing.

Emma's calling this idea, _insanity born of desperation_. Or something of the sort.

Which leaves her here. On her hands and knees, mind spinning and body heavy, as she listens helplessly to Gold approach. She thinks that maybe Elsa had tried to stop him, because the air is significantly colder than before she went bat shit crazy, but that could also be a side affect of having a mystical heart (which isn't actually hers) inside her body. Either way, she can no longer sense her friend nearby and a tendril of worry filters out from the clamor in her skull.

And then everything goes quiet just as Gold's shoes snap into focus in her narrow frame of sight. Silence. Not outside of course, Killian and David and Mary Margaret and Henry are all yelling frantically, but the mad babble in her head ceases.

Her vision clears and body lightens.

Her breathing regulates and the shakes stop.

And more.

Just as a hand reaches to grab her by her hair, the crocodile no doubt intending to yank her up and take back what he stole, Emma is on her feet and a meter back in a movement flooded with magic. Power feels as though it's dripping from her very fingertips and this time it's not out of her control. It sizzles and snaps at her limbs and crackles from her hair that whips in a non-existent wind. It tastes of cinnamon on hot chocolate, smells of sea air and leather and feels like a trusty yellow bug.

And she can see _everything_.

She can see the magic swirling through the air and ground, little eddies of nature's power dancing in small waves and pulsating calming colours. She can see the magic that seems to ooze from her parents, the magic that is True Love shimmering gold so bright, it's nearly blinding. She sees the core of each individuals being, their auras of blazing colours and emotions.

Peering down at her chest in childish curiosity, her mind too overwhelmed to function on full capacity (not that it was to begin with, clearly), Emma becomes entranced at what she sees. Shooting off from her aura, a rather entrancing mixture of greens and blues with a few dapples of white, is a handful of small cords of colour, leading directly to the auras of the others.

One such is the tiny silver and indigo strand shimmering through the darkness of the evening to attach itself to the slumped figure of Elsa, where she lays at the foot of the mansions steps, still unconscious from when Gold had thrown her away. Another is a much larger strand of pale red and dark amber connects her to Henry, and it seems to radiate more strength than it ought, likely the power belonging to the heart of the truest believer. The strands that lead to David and Mary Margaret are similar, both a mixture of yellows and pinks, but her fathers contain flecks of silver while her mothers is dappled in light blue. And the cord connecting her to Killian is dull and listless, the gold and purples faint as they slide off the empty aura of the pirate with no heart.

There is a small handful of other cords bursting from her aura that lead off into the distance and she sets to studying them, trying to figure where they lead on feeling and colour alone. She purposely ignores the two broken ones that twine gently about her wrists, unable to connect to the dead whom they belong to.

Fascinated as she is by the dizzying array of colours filling her vision and the feel of earth's magic eagerly lapping at her legs like a puppy, she misses the shouts that arise from her family. Misses how her parents and son all surge forward, only to be held back by a wave of Gold's hand. Doesn't see how Killian continues to struggle against the fence, the brilliant blue of his eyes swamped with a dull panic.

It does not matter though.

As Gold's hand surges towards her chest to retrieve his stolen prize, Emma's gaze snaps up to stare deep into the black pit that is the crocodile. Purposely ignoring how his hand pierces her chest and closes around her hearts, she nearly gags at the cloying stench of darkness that rolls off of him in thick black waves. As the maniacal look falls from his face and he struggles to free his hand, she stares deep into the black aura that seems to swallow Gold whole. It appears bottomless at first, simply a swirling mass of oily black and tinged with crimson, but after a second, three small, practically needle thin, cords become visible.

The first is a dull grey and brown in colour and it waves slowly and brokenly in the air, unconnected to another soul, leaving Emma to guess this was once Gold's connection to his first wife and love Milah. The second is much brighter but still muted combination of dark blue and yellow that reminds her faintly of her own connection with her parents, making Emma realize that this cord is what connects the crocodile to Neal, the son he travelled realms to find again. It is also broken, but wrapped around his wrist, a clear indicator of the love he still and will forever hold for his child.

The last cord is the brightest and strongest of them all, a slightly burnished gold and light blue that leads off into the distance and must be his love for Belle. But this cord is slowly being choked through by the blackness, cracking and breaking at a handful of points.

The magic swirling through her is starting to crackle, the unnatural white magic impossible to be contained by one soul. It begins to break through her flesh in small bursts of light as it seeks escape, splitting skin, but Emma hardly notices, too entranced and reviled by the darkness that stands before her.

Mindless to her own actions, Emma gently removed Gold's hand from her chest, the white magic sliding from her finger tips latching into the man's skin and burning, stares into the black pit, not seeing the panic that is bubbling within the crocodile. And then slams her free hand into his chest, drawing his heart free from its fleshy confines as though she was cradling something incredibly fragile.

The light magic that is cracking through her hands and slowly making it's way up her forearms, shimmers angrily at the presence of such foulness near them. Emma silences it's protests with a gentle hush and ignores how the crocodile has fallen to his knees, face dazed and terrified.

Lifting the blackened and shriveled organ to her nose, she peers into its depth. And then blows out a gentle breath.

Magic surges forward to the black heart and sets to work, repairing and cleansing, peeling away the darkness in small flakes and filling it's core with a flush of light. At her feet, Gold screams and writhes in pain, the pain of transformation transcending even the lack of heart but she remains blissfully unaware as her magic rushes through her, only noting how the enchanted organs beating speeds up as it's owner struggles. As bits of darkness flee from the overwhelming light, Gold's life flashes before her eyes, from the moment he began to remember as a child, all the way until she tore his heart from his chest only seconds ago. When it's over, Emma is flooded with a mixture of pity, sadness and rage for the twisted man before her.

Finally, her work is done, the last of the darkness chipping away and drifting off in the soft breeze, leaving behind a brilliant and blazing ruby red heart. Pleased, she cradles the long abused heart to her chest and murmurs nonsense to it has the frantic beating slows. Gold remains gasping and wheezing on the ground, tears still sliding down his cheeks.

Crouching, Emma cocks her head to study the trembling man. Then she speaks in a voice not entirely her own.

"This is a gift Rumplestiltskin, one you do not deserve. But Belle, pure of heart, does. Use it wisely."

Then she slams the heart home.

An explosion of magic surges from the Dark One, blasting outwards in a path of destruction. All the darkness that was still caught in the immortal has been pushed out by the clean and pure heart now residing in his chest and it flees angrily. With a small wave, Emma raises glimmering white barriers around all those present to protect them and watches as the blackness races off through the night.

By now, having been freed from Gold's magic but wise enough to be wary of the two sorcerers, David has made his way to Elsa's side, helping the still confused sorcerer back onto her feet, while Mary Margaret and Henry stand by Hook, watching the proceedings with matching looks of fear. They all jump in shock when they become surrounded by a bubble of pure white magic, wincing when dark claws scraped over the shields not a second later. In that instant, the savior and crocodile vanish from view.

When the blackness finally clears and the white walls vanish, the scene that meets their eyes could almost be described as heart wrenching.

Gold is on his knees, arms wrapped around Emma's legs, weeping unashamedly. Tears flow freely down his face, incredible sobs wracking his body in vicious shakes so powerful, it appears as though they could shake him apart at the seems. Through the sounds of his gasping sobs, the watchers can barely make out the mumble of words tumbling from the crocodile's lips.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…" Over and over, an endless loop of babble. David stares in active horror as a small smile graces his daughter's lips and she strokes a gentle hand over Gold's head in comfort. By now, the light bursting from his eldest child's arms has spider-webbed itself to just past her elbows and is still spreading slowly. But what chills him to the bone is the glazed look in eyes that are quite literally glowing in the gloom like green lanterns.

It's Henry who approaches first, warily moving closer to his mother and grandfather as if approaching two wild animals. As his shoes crunch over the gravel, Gold flinches at each step but Emma remains motionless.

Impassive.

Blank.

David keeps a careful hand on Snow's waist, holding her close as his wife presses a horrified hand to her mouth. At his side, Elsa fidgets anxiously, the cool aura surrounding her further emphasizing her nerves.

And Hook.

Hook stands off to the left, utterly still and David can see the dull shock and fear still rolling in the heart-less pirates eyes. As much as he hates to admit it, a wave of sympathy for the one handed man floods through David's chest, because he knows all to well the sensation of watching the love of his life in utter peril.

"Mom?" Henry's voice is small and scared and David knows that the boy's eyes are likely wide with the same fear that fills them all.

Emma's only reaction is to tilt her head slightly and stare at Henry, through Henry, all the while keeping a calming hand on Gold's head as the shaking man continues to cry. The light that bursts from the flesh along her arms seems to flare and writhe angrily.

"Mom?" Henry tries again, taking another step closer so he stands only a few small feet away from Emma and Gold and in that instance, David jolts, realizing his grandson is now too far away for him to protect should Gold decide to snap out of whatever daze he's in.

"Mom, I think you should give Hook back his heart," Henry murmurs, moving closer still and reaching out with a trembling hand and tension rackets through David's spine. Out of the corner of his eye, he notes with dull satisfaction that Hook is also shifting into a fighting stance, ready to race towards the odd collection of figures before them.

Emma does not respond, only stares at Henry with naked curiosity for a second before looking down at the crumpled man at her feet. By now, the crocodile has ceased his shaking and the majority of his sobs and is now staring up at Emma with pure wonder. The sick feeling in the pit of David's stomach intensifies and Snow lets out a small noise of distress, mirrored in the growl that rumbles from Hook's throat.

The odd spell is broken when Henry finally rests a gentle hand on Emma's arm, only to jump back with a cry of pain a second later. The watching quartet all jerk forward but are waved off by Henry, even as he hisses and blows gently on his hand. Emma's face twists in a mirror of the pain and a vague look of fear passes over her features as she once more stares at her son, but it's quickly lost and the blank mask returns.

"Henry, step back," the croaking voice startles them all (but for Emma) as Gold makes his way wearily to his feet, tears still wet on his face. "Her magic will hurt you."

"But Grandpa-!" Henry tries and David's heart clenches at the waver in the boy's voice.

"No!" Gold snaps, practically shoving Henry towards where Hook is standing. "Listen to me you foolish child! I promise I will help her, but you need to step back."

Henry stumbles back a few steps from the force of the shove, surprise decorating his features, before it morphs into resolute anger, but Gold is already facing Emma once again. David breaks away from Snow slowly and moves quietly to his grandson's side, pulling him back just as Henry moves to go back to his mother. A quick shake of his head is all it takes to restrain the boy.

"If you lay a hand on her crocodile, I swear upon the Gods it will be the last thing you do," Hook growls and David is unsurprised to see the pirate's hook at the ready.

Gold gives no indication of hearing. Hook snarls, but a wave of Gold's hand keeps him in place.

"Dearie, I know you can hear me," Gold begins with a voice that continues to shake as if in pain, taking a small step away from Emma and clasping his hands before him. "And you need to listen. That magic coursing through you is going to kill you."

At this, another wave of a hand silences the outcry of surprise, this time from Emma, leaving everyone pawing at their throats in confusion and attempting to form any sound.

"And I know you know this," Gold continues, watching the glowing eyes focus on him. In them, he can see the dull acceptance of his words as he speaks. "So you need to take the pirates heart out now. I promise that I will not touch it and you may bind my magic to that contract if you so wish, but you are going to die and soon if you don't rid yourself of it."

There's a beat of tense silence.

Then a slow nod.

"Good," is all Gold says before taking another step away.

Watching the now brilliant aura of the former Dark One move away, Emma lifts her arms and takes a second to examine them. She can see the wild magic swirling and pooling in her bones and leaking off through the spreading cracks in skin and she can feel the two hearts in her chest going wild as they try to fight off magical overload. The magic of the earth is drawn to the focal point of light energy she has created within herself, adding itself to the mix and chipping away at her strength as well.

With a small sigh that breathes more magic than air back into the world, she takes one last look at the gleaming aura's and cords of those who surround her and brushes a light finger across the two cords twined around her wrist.

And then she plunges that same hand back into her own chest, gasping at the startling pain. Screwing her eyes shut, she ignores the roar in her ears that drowns out anything else and the tingling in her fingers, she fishes around in her own chest cavity and closes a careful hand around the heart that does not belong in her chest.

Time to end the insanity plan.

She vaguely realizes that it worked.

Sort of.

Clenching her teeth in preparation, white magic now roiling and pulsating strongly at her core, she breathes out and _pulls._

Suddenly, her hand is free and holding that bright red heart in the palm of her hand. She stares at it in wonderment.

Then the world comes crashing down; Emma's vision grows dark, her knees give out as the magic bread from her madness bursts free and she collapses. In the brief second before anyone can move, sensation returns to her body.

The cracks formed from the wild magic start to ooze.

And Emma _screams_.


	2. Chapter 2

_This has been sitting on my hard drive for months, untouched, and almost forgotten. _

_Luckily, I finally got around to posting it for those of you who are following this; I hope you enjoy!_

_I welcome all your __input; especially opinions about where you'd like to see this going._

* * *

It's a scream that rattles the bones of everyone present and scrapes chillingly along their spines and souls. It's a scream wrenched from a tortured mind that manages to freeze all in their tracks. It's a scream of pure anguish and loss.

All those who remain watching the savior are poleaxed by the sound, left to watch with shock filled eyes as Emma knees give out and she crumples to the ground. As the heart-wrenching scream fades into the night air, it's Killian who is the first to break free from their collective trance. Even Gold is still, a pinched expression coating his face as he stands mere feet from the collapsed savior, trembling hand clutching at his cane as if it's the only thing keeping him from following Emma to the dirt.

What no one realizes is that this is in fact true. Rumpelstiltskin feels as weak and unsteady as a foal trying out its brand new legs for the first time. The only thing keeping him from sinking to the relative steadiness of the earth is his pride; a battered and dented pride from sobbing thanks into the saviors feet, but an intact pride nonetheless.

But, as his muscles quake and his fingers spasm about the top of his cane, Rumple can't help the swell of awe that rises in his chest.

The savior had done the impossible.

The Dark One's heart was no longer black.

Killian rushes to Emma's side, too frantic in his need to ascertain his Swan's safety to realize his heart is still held lightly in her hands. Her bloody and shaking hands; where the magic had split her skin in it's bid to escape it's fleshy confines, it had left behind deep gouges in Emma's hands and arms. And they had begun to bleed freely. The enchanted heart is jostled free from her weak grasp as Killian quite literally crashes to his knees next to her and it rolls gently away.

He takes little notice of the small red object; frankly he doesn't care. All he can focus on now is Emma and making sure she's alright, even if he can't quite grasp the true intensity of his worry thanks to his muffled emotions.

The movement of the pirate is enough to spark action in the others; David and Mary Margaret immediately run to their daughter, who has begun to sob quietly, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stares blankly into the darkness. Her bloodied arms are outstretched as if reaching for something or someone no one else can see. Killian tears ragged strips from his shirt with a few deft flicks of his hook and sets about wrapping them about Emma's wounds, all the while keeping up a babble of comforting nonsense as she remains unresponsive. David is also quick to sacrifice his shirt; he shrugs off his jacket and renders his t-shirt to a mass of fabric in a matter of moments.

Crouching next to Hook, David begins bandaging the arm the pirate hasn't yet touched, fighting valiantly to ward off the ever growing fear that feels like it's trying to strangle him as he watches Emma continue to sob. The gashes that stretch from the tips of her fingers in a horrific spider-web up to the tops of her shoulders aren't helping matters much either. As he works, tying thin strips around wounds on the daughter he's supposed to protect, it's impossible to ignore how his fingers grow sticky with her blood and he wants nothing more than to tear into whatever's responsible for Emma's injuries and distress.

But there's nothing for him to fight; magic is what did this and he's still too confused as to what happened between her and Gold for him to take any action without more information. Meaning he's left with hands covered in hot blood and terror in his throat.

David can't even begin to image what Hook is feeling right now. A quick glance is enough to ascertain that the pirate is just, if not more, panicked, despite missing his heart.

David doesn't want to begin to think of what Hook would be like if his heart were intact. He thinks – knows – it would be too painful to witness, even despite his original misgivings concerning the pirate.

"Emma?" Mary Margaret whispers from where she crouches on Killian's other side, reaching out to gently strokes Emma's hair, the only place she can touch that isn't covered in blood. "Emma, can you say something honey? Please?"

The desperation in her voice is mirrored in Killian and David's rapid movements. Neither acknowledges how their hands shake.

They receive no response.

By this time, Henry has retrieved Hook's heart and is watching his mother with terrified and tear filled eyes, glowing organ clutched to his chest. Elsa stands behind him, keeping a wary eye on Gold as she takes in the proceedings with a sense of dull horror. And Gold has yet to move save for bringing a hand to his chest and resting it over his heart.

"Emma, love, come on back to us now," Killian pleads, reaching out to cup her cheek, taking no notice of the blood that stains his fingers. "Please lass, I need to properly thank you for getting my heart back."

David can't even fault the pirate for attempting an innuendo, especially not when the pirate's voice breaks when he says heart, allowing the potent fear they're all feeling to seep through.

None of them know exactly what they just witnessed or what just happened between the Savior and the Dark One and they're doing their best to ignore it, but the unknown is adding fuel to the flames of fear.

After another tense moment filled with increasingly more desperate pleas, Emma finally seems to snap out of her daze, too weary and worn out to notice the tears that continue to drip down her cheeks and splash onto Killian's hand.

In fact, she feels as though something vital is missing or that she has been stripped of one of her senses. She feels hollowed out and drained, as if a child on a sugar high had taken a rusty spoon to her insides like they were ice cream.

She feels lost. Again, she can't help but compare the sensation to a missing limb, a phantom pain that is impossible to heal. Vaguely, it registers that she's still crying and it's a battle to tamp down on the gross, heaving sobs that accompany the tears, but she manages after a brief moment.

Let's hear it again for the stupidest goddamn plan of the century. But it had worked. Killian's heart was safe. She had to hold onto that.

But Emma vows then and there to have a serious talk with herself about her current life choices at a later date.

Blinking slowly, Emma finally meets Killian's panicked gaze and manages to drum up a tiny smile when relief floods the brilliant blue. On either side of her, she hears her parents nearly sob with their own relief, but she only has eyes for her pirate. She toys briefly with the idea of twining her fingers with his, but quickly thinks better of it when she feels the pain that's still dulled with shock, spark to life. Instead, she simply leans foreword to rest her forehead against his.

She can feel him move restlessly, arms lifting as if to embrace her, but he seems to think better of it and drops them and Emma can't help but be grateful; her body is too battered to even deal with a hug.

Thank god for shock and her current inability to register just how badly she should be feeling physically. Emotionally, on the other hand, is in entirely different story.

"Welcome back Swan," Killian whispers, breath ghosting across her lips as he speaks. Emma just snorts weakly, to scattered to think of a more appropriate response.

Just then something occurs to her and she sits back on her haunches, finally looking around. She takes in her parents, both pale and each holding tightly to one of her legs as if to reassure themselves she's still there, notes Elsa standing a short space away, looking both wary, which Emma approves of, and scared. The Ice Queen keeps glancing at Gold, who is stood some distance to Emma's left, and has one hand at the ready. And Gold is motionless, staring at Emma with emotion swamped eyes, one hand pressed tightly to where his heart beats beneath his hand.

As Emma's gaze passes over Henry, who is staring at her with an expression that tears at her insides, her eyes skid over the ruby heart in her son's hands before snapping back and staring. The yearning that appears from nowhere is both indescribable and terrifying, yet she can't look away, entranced by the soft pulse of light.

Stupid. Fucking. Plan.

It's only the muted pain that continues to throb up and down her arms that keeps her in check, but it's when Gold issues a soft warning that she finally manages to look away.

"Emma, you can't," the former Dark One murmurs softly, ignoring how the collection of people surrounding the savior all flinch at his contribution.

"I know," she whispers before either Killian or her father can start spouting indignities at Gold, ones she knows are just hovering at the tips of their tongues. Finally, she breaks her renewed staring contest with the heart and settles on meeting Killian's ever-fearful eyes once again.

"Henry," she murmurs, "can you come here please?" with a tone devoid of emotion save for exhaustion.

Her son rushes to her side in an instant, shifting from foot to foot when he halts behind Killian's shoulder. "You okay mom?" he asks anxiously.

"Yeah, kid, I'll be fine," she tells him, still not daring to look over at him or what he currently holds in his possession. Killian's gaze is doing wonders to keep her settled but she needs to do this. "I need you to give me Killian's heart now."

"Emma-"

"Shut up Rumple; I _know_!" Emma snaps, whipping around to glare at the man. With everyone looking on in baffled confusion, the two appear to have a conversation with only their eyes before Gold huffs and looks at the ground. The use of the name that only Belle uses is enough to bring bile rising in Killian's throat and he sees the very real horror on the Charmings' faces as they stare at the daughter as she interacts with the Dark One as if they were old friends.

"I know," she repeats quietly, before reaching out to take the proffered organ from her son, hands trembling when they brush over its glowing surface. She winces when Killian jolts at the contact and fights away the nausea that's threatening to overwhelm her.

Maybe it was the blood loss…

Okay, it was highly likely due to the blood loss…

But she can practically feel her control slipping through her fingers and she knows that the darkness hovering around the edge of her vision isn't good. Something inside her is roiling as she draws Killian's heart to rest between the two of him, but she fights it tooth and nail, and sucks in a deep breath.

"Ready?" she whispers to her pirate and he nods.

Not giving herself time to think, she lifts the hand holding the heart of her True Love and gently presses it into his chest. As it slides away from her fingers to settle back where it belongs, she feels a tiny flare of magic brush over her skin and sees, just for the smallest of moments, the cord between them flare back into brilliant life.

The sight of blazing gold and purple stretching between them, bright and filled with life, is enough to bring fresh tears to her eyes. Then it's gone, as quickly as it appeared, falling just out of sight from the physical world and vanishing into the magic that she is unable to see anymore. But the sight of Killian's eyes sparking with emotions he can finally fully feel is enough for her to ignore the loss that thrums in her chest.

Tears also appear in Hook's eyes as sensation rushes full force through his soul and all the pent up fear and horror blasts through any remain composure like a freight train. And suddenly she's in his arms, his warm body vibrating against hers as he clutches her tightly, too overwhelmed by the reappearance of his full-fledged emotions to do more than hold her as close to him as possible.

Of course, this is when Emma finally, gratefully and completely passes out, the sudden movement and jostling of her barely bandaged wounds pushing her over the edge she's been hovering at ever since she hit the ground.

In fact, she welcomes the rush of darkness with open arms and lets herself fall into the void with a smile.


End file.
